* “How can I end this hunt then?”

* “This is something that only hunters are supposed to know.”

* “Ah, do you know anything of Pale blood?” He asked, remembering the engraved note.

* “Pale blood you say? No, not really. But if it’s blood you’re seeking, head to the healing church. Yharnamites do not like sharing their secrets with strangers. Your only option would be the church then.”

* “And where might that be?”

* “The church lies in the Cathedral Ward beyond the bridge. You are now in Central Yharnam. Once you cross, make your way up towards the clock tower, you can’t miss it.”

Indeed he couldn’t miss it. The clock tower was visible from the small square he was standing in. When Surgit approached the ladder from which he had climbed earlier, he could see a huge tower on the other side of the bridge. It looked as if he were a child contemplating a faraway dream. The church seemed to be very far away and he had no idea what awaited him on the way there. He went back to Gilbert and thanked him for the information he had provided him.

Surgit took the street on his right and descended the stairs. He found himself on a bridge that crossed another street underneath him. That area looked like it had been an old merchant street. With tall buildings on each side of the street, they went up to three of four stories. The tall brick houses were closed off from the top by triangular roofs on which tiles were to be seen everywhere. Long glass windows decorated each floor of the house. Surgit could feel that this city used to brim with life and that this street used to accommodate many travellers. The carriages that were parked on the side of the street were proof enough of that. On some doors, he could make some very old wooden signs. These building were perhaps Inns or pubs to accommodate all the visitors.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Only now, the only sound he could hear was of metal clinking on the paved floor beneath him. He looked down from the bridge to see a mob of what used to be people patrolling the street. He could count at least twelve. Some were holding torches and he managed to make some of the shapes through the mist that covered the lower street. These men seemed to use everyday tools as weapons. Some were holding sickles while others held farming pitch forks in both hands. Getting past them wouldn’t be an easy task and Surgit hoped to avoid them altogether.

He crossed the bridge to find that the street led to the right, and from that point stairs led him down towards the street where he had just seen the patrolling mob. He was welcomed by two men-beasts who came rushing towards him. Surgit elongated his saw and with one swoop managed to cut through their flesh with extreme ease. The two fell down at his feet, fighting death. He was amazed at how powerful he had become.